


When I Feel That Rock ‘n’ Roll

by Orange_Clown



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Humor, POV Outsider, THEY'RE taking it seriously at least, Teenage Dorks, Teenage Rebellion, a lot of this is based off of stuff from the actual game, so weird - Freeform, sorta - Freeform, the game is weird, they think that they're rebelling but really they're the dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 13:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18477286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orange_Clown/pseuds/Orange_Clown
Summary: Noctis and Prompto, now in their last year of high school, think that they are HARDCORE REBELLIOUS TEENS.No one has the heart to tell them that they are really, really not.





	When I Feel That Rock ‘n’ Roll

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “Lose Control” by Hedley.
> 
> I… actually finished a thing? How did this happen?
> 
> Also, the guest bedrooms in the Citadel are based off the Cinderella castle suite at Disney - because I can :)

“Alright,” Prompto said, dumping a bag on Noctis’ counter. “I’m ready. Also  _ never _ make me do that again.”

Noctis stood up and peered at the goods - namely, two six-packs of beer. “Sorry, I won’t. Did you have any trouble? Also, why just beer?”

Prompto shook his head. “Nah, the clerk didn’t even check ids, which - probably isn’t a great idea? Pretty sure they can get their license revoked for that, but whatever. Not our problem. And the beer - dude, my parents let me try some of their vodka one time. It was  _ nasty _ . I dunno why anyone would want to drink it. And you said that wine wasn’t much better, yeah?”

Noctis paused in the middle of opening the box, making a face. “Yeah, I dunno why we serve the stuff at fancy gatherings. I usually just stick to water.”

“Well, I guess we can try alcohol for ourselves, now. Ready?” Prompto asked, opening the bottle.

“I guess.”

They both took a drink.

“It’s… fine?” Prompto said uncertainty. Noctis looked over at him and shrugged. “I mean, it’s not  _ bad _ , but I was honestly expecting the heavens to open up and holy choirs to sing, given how people talk about it.”

“People also wax poetic about wine and vodka. Clearly people are just crazy.” Noctis muttered, taking another drink.

Prompto shook his head. “Anyway, drink up buddy. According to Moogle we need to drink about five each to ensure a hangover.”

“Remind me why we’re  _ trying _ to get a hangover, again?” Noctis said.

“...complete experience? ‘Cause dude, like I said, I’m  _ not _ buying this again - I almost had a panic attack outside the store. And  _ you _ certainly can’t do it, Mr. Crown Prince.” Prompto took another drink of his own bottle. “And, need I remind you, this was  _ your _ idea?”

“Well, if we hadn’t left that party early we could have tried it there…” Noctis said.

“Nobody made you follow me!” Prompto protested. “And that dog was so cute, it was just  _ begging _ to be pet.”

“I was bored out of my  _ skull _ after fifteen minutes. Almost worse than official functions. The dog  _ was _ cuter.”

“See? No one can resist puppies.”

Noctis sighed. “But we should probably get stuff ready to  _ deal _ with the hangover afterwards if we’re actually going to do this.”

Prompto nodded firmly. “Go big or go home, buddy. Now, what does Moogle say…”

* * *

They weren’t doing this  _ ever again _ .

“Why does anyone  _ do _ this?” Prompto moaned, placing his head in his arms. He couldn’t keep his eyes open for longer than a minute or two before he had to close them due to pain.

Noctis just groaned. He hadn’t even made it to the table, instead collapsing in his sofa. “Please put me out of my misery.”

Prompto snorted, then moaned. “Yeah, no. I’m already suffering - I’m not about to get executed for regicide on top of that. Oh  _ Astrals _ .”

“At least execution would stop the pain?” he hissed.

“Now you’re starting to come up with a compelling argument -  _ shit _ …”

Noctis closed his eyes. Hopefully the next thing on their list wouldn’t  _ hurt _ so much.

* * *

Caesulena Gordio did not enjoy her job at “Above the Influence” Liquor Store. The pay wasn’t great, the customers were usually rude, and the pun name  _ really _ grew old after about 5 minutes. Astrals, she couldn’t wait until she was done with college and could quit.

So when a blond teenager came in and bought beer that he probably definitely wasn’t old enough for, she honestly didn’t care enough to check if he had a license. Honestly, it was just beer. She's seen worse. (She's _done_ worse. That party from her junior year alone...). If her manager asked, it just slipped her mind.

Just two more hours...

* * *

“You sure we should be doing this?” Prompto whispered, tiptoeing after Noctis.

“It’s my home, isn’t it?” he asked. He turned down the hallway to their right and continued on.

“Well, yeah, but even you aren’t allowed in  _ every room in the Citadel _ , right?” Prompto said, nearly tripping over his own feet as he turned to follow Noctis.

“Pretty sure I’m allowed in the  _ guest bedrooms _ , Prompto,” Noctis said. But despite his words, he too seemed a little nervous - probably influenced by his friend’s paranoia. “Besides, isn’t this something that rebellious teens do? Break into places that they aren’t supposed to go?”

“I - I mean, I guess,” Prompto mumbled, fiddling with his camera. “But dude, when I said that I would like a picture of the rooms, I didn’t expect you to  _ actually take me to them _ .”

Noctis shrugged, glancing around at the deserted hallways. With the war going on until recently and all of their allies now busy rebuilding their governments and lands after formally declaring independence from Niffleheim, the guest rooms for visiting dignitaries hadn’t been used for years. It was all still relatively clean - clearly the cleaning staff went through on occasion - but no one came over here without a reason. “We’re here anyway, so might as well take the shots.”

“Yeah,” Prompto breathed, staring at the closed door. They stood in silence for a moment, glancing sideways at each other.

“Aren’t you going to open it?”

“You’re the one with the key!”

Noctis flushed slightly. “Ah, yeah. Just give me a sec.” He fumbled for a moment before withdrawing the key from his pocket. A second later, he pushed open the door.

“Oh wow,” Prompto breathed. The suite was incredibly ornate, with stained glass in every window, two queen-sized beds covered in brocade, and a marble fireplace blocked by an ornately-carved grate. After snapping a few pictures, he dashed over to the adjacent parlor, where he took a carefully positioned shot of the sofa.

“Ya know, this room is gorgeous, but it doesn’t seem to match the rest of the castle, Noct,” he called. Noctis wandered over and leaned against the door frame.

“It doesn’t,” he agreed. “Partially because the rest of the rooms have been updated, and partially because this is meant to be a mix of Tenebraen and Accordon styles - Tenebraen architecture and Accordon colors, mixed in with influences from ancient Solheim - well, what we know of it. Or, more accurately, can guess of it.” He watched for a moment as Prompto took some more pictures. “‘Sides, this is nothing - you should see the bathroom.”

The bathroom was  _ gorgeous _ . It continued the theme of stone and stained glass from the previous rooms, but also had  _ murals _ surrounding the bathtub.

“Fanciest ‘tub  _ I’ve _ ever scene,” Prompto muttered, taking a shot. “Hey Noct, did  _ your _ childhood bathroom look this fancy?”

Noct rolled his eyes. “No.”

“Shame. You were missing out.”

When they finally let themselves out about an hour later, Prompto turned to Noctis. “Thanks for that. Both for taking me… and for not letting me chicken out.”

Noctis smiled. “No problem.”

* * *

Pedia Fulvius enjoyed cleaning the lesser-used rooms in the citadel. It could get pretty stressful in the more well-used areas, knowing that at any time someone important could just walk it. (Well, it was a little stressful knowing that  _ someone _ could walk in - what if they wanted to talk? Or wanted directions? Even after working here for several months she still didn’t know where everything was…)

So being assigned to the bi-weekly cleaning of the to-her-knowledge unused guest rooms? Paradise.

So it came as a bit of a shock when she heard voices walking towards her  _ from _ the direction of the rooms. Panicking slightly (what if it was an intruder?! Or someone having a secret meeting to discuss important information?!) she froze and then quickly ducked inside the first suite. Peering out, she saw two people pause for a moment in front of her abandoned supplies before moving on.

“Must be cleaning time here,” the dark-haired man - the Prince? That was Prince Noctis, right? - said.

“Yeah, good thing I got those pics before they arrived. I’d hate to get in their way,” the other man said.

Pedia breathed out in relief as they exited. Good. No intruders, no conspiracy, and absolutely no human interaction.

Her day was once again looking up.

* * *

“Good thing I updated my will before coming here,” Prompto said faux-cheerfully. “Because we are  _ dead _ .”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to crash,” he said, getting into the Regalia’s front seat and buckling in. “I do have a learner’s permit, you know. And Specs was overreacting - it was my second time trying to drive, what’d he expect?”

“Wasn’t talking about crashing,” Prompto said, sliding into the seat. “I was talking about your Dad. Or Iggy. One of them is going to kill both of us. Also why was Iggy helping you? I thought you had a teacher.”

“I do,” Noctis said, carefully adjusting the mirrors. “It was for extra practice. I think he also wanted to show off his knowledge a bit - he’d just gotten his license.”

“Guess that backfired on him then,” Prompto said, firmly buckling himself in.

“All I did was stop a bit suddenly,” Noctis said, exasperated. “Just a little jolt. And now he’s convinced that I’m a incurable, maniac driver.”

“Probably just hates not being the one in control,” Prompto said sagely.

“Yeah, anyway, you ready?” Nocris asked, pushing down the break.

Despite his somewhat encouraging words, Prompto immediately grabbed the handle and side of the seat firmly. “...ready?”

“Let’s go.”

The place that they were driving in was a mostly-deserted underground car park where the Regalia was stored for most of the time. Under Prompto’s white-knuckled gaze, Noctis slowly backed out of the parking spot. He then put the Regalia in drive and carefully pressed on the gas.

He spent the next few minutes circling the parking lot at about 5 miles per hour, Prompto slowly relaxing from his cringed, eyes-half-shut pose.

See, Iggy? Noctis could  _ so _ drive .

Nevertheless, it was a bit of a relief to pull the Regalia back into its parking spot.

Clearly Prompto agreed with him, letting out a deep breath as Noctis turned off the car. Feeling a little bit wicked, Noctis turned to him and asked, “You wanna try?”

“Nope, I’m good, thanks! Let’s get out of here before we’re caught.” Prompto hastily scrambled out of the car as though it would turn on again if he sat for too long.

“Then let’s mosey.”

* * *

“Anything interesting happen?” Silia Gluvias, one of the guards assigned to the Citadel parking lot, asked, peering at the CCTV screen.

“Nope. As usual, no one unauthorized tried to get in, no one tried to break out. Well, Prince Noctis came and practiced driving for about 20 minutes, but that’s it.” Albanus Tarquinius, the man with the shift before her, replied. “Astrals, I can’t wait until I’m promoted. Maybe then I’ll actually get to see something interesting.”

Silia snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. Not even any glory for the 'Glaives or Crownsguard any more, no chance for any of us plebs.”

Albanus sighed. "Yeah, well, I can dream."

* * *

“So you’re certain about this?” Noctis asked, glancing over at a humming Prompto.

“Yep, I’ve been planning this for a few months now. Have the designs and everything. Happy birthday me.” He said excitedly, gesturing at the front of the Dragon Needle tattoo parlour.

Noctis personally didn’t think that having  _ needles _ stabbed into his skin for an hour or so was a good way to spend his birthday, but he was a magnanimous friend - he’d known for years that Prompto was completely crazy.

After walking inside and speaking with the receptionist, they settled in to wait.

A few minutes in, Noctis leaned over and poked Prompto.

“Do I at least get to see the mysterious design?” he asked.

Prompto grinned. “Nope. You get to wait and see.”

“Not even a hint?” Noctis whined.

“Nope! And don’t you dare use those puppy eyes, they won’t work!”

After spending a few more minutes trying to wheedle details out of Prompto, they were interrupted by the receptionist saying that it was Prompto’s turn. With a cheery wave, Prompto went off to his needle-filled doom.

Bored now, Noctis passed the time playing on his phone, but after dying for the fifth time in a row, he gave up in disgust and decided to look around the store. He peered at the intricate designs, marveling at the level of detail in the largest of them, before noticing a small rack in the corner.

It was full of temporary tattoos - presumably for kids to get as they waited for family members.

Or, in this case, a best friend.

Grinning slightly, Noctis flipped through the designs. Hearts, trucks, watches, shapes of all types, cartoon characters - oh.

Near the bottom of the rack, mixed in with other flowers, Noctis found a sylleblossom. His favorite flower. He reached down and picked it up.

Well, it was only a  _ temporary _ tattoo, right? He probably wouldn’t get in  _ too _ much trouble for this.

Feeling a small thrill at the rebelliousness of his actions, Noct went up to pay. If he hurried he could get  _ his _ ‘tattoo’ done before Prompto came out.

* * *

“So lemme see!”

Prompto laughed. “I think you’re more excited about this than I am.”

“Well yeah, wanna see what’s so cool that you’re willing to be stabbed with needles for,” Noctis said.

Prompto fiddled with his left glove for a moment before removing it. “Don’t have too high of an expectation, dude - they’re pretty small.”

Noctis leaned it. A small bracelet of - barbed wire? - encircled Prompto’s wrist, with a small sun or starburst above it. Above him, Prompto continued to babble.

“I mean, I didn’t want to get anything  _ too _ eye-catching, ‘cause I know a lot of workplaces frown on that. I - I know that the Crownsguard doesn’t care - i-if I even get accepted, but other places -”

“It looks nice,” Noctis interrupted.

That caused Prompto to pause. “Really?”

“Yeah, it suits you,” Noctis tilted his head to grin up at him. “Small but deadly.”

Prompto snorted. “Oh. Wow. I didn’t even think - thanks dude. Really.”

“Sure thing.” He straightened up. “Now, do you wanna see  _ my _ tattoo?”

“Yours?” Prompto asked, puzzled. “How did you get-” He trailed off as Noctis rolled up his sleeve, showing off his sylleblossom tattoo. “Is that a temporary one?”

“Yeah, found it while waiting for you. So whaddya think?”

Prompto reached out to lightly touch the flower. “It’s really detailed for a temporary one. Much better than the ones you can get at the arcade.”

“Well yeah, I’d hope that they’d have a  _ slightly _ better product here.”

“Looks nice. You gonna go up to the Citadel and watch everyone have a heart attack, thinking that you got a tattoo?”

“Duh,” Noctis said, rolling his sleeve back down.

“Awesome,” Prompto said, ushering him out the door. “Get me pics of any good reactions.”

“Sure.”

* * *

 

And, well, he  _would_ have, but no one seemed to notice.

Or care.

* * *

 

Ignis and Gladio made it a point to meet up for lunch at least once a week despite whatever they had going on - classes, job shadowing, family events, training, or spending time with Noct.

And during these meetups, one of their favorite things to do was exchange gossip about their family, friends and co-workers.

_ Well _ , Gladio reflected,  _ Ignis would probably object to calling it  _ gossip _ , call it “information gathering” or something, but... _

...it really, really was.

Seriously, the details Lady Audaios’ complaints about substandard water bottles being served at charity functions or the head chef’s passive aggressive campaign against the Crown Grocer’s perceived slights were  _ not _ important information,  _ Iggy _ .

(Not that he didn’t enjoy it.)

Today was unfortunately tame - the best he had (other than the news that Monica was adopting a third cat) was something he’d noticed when he and Prompto had gone for a morning run.

“Seems that Prompto decided to get a tattoo,” he said.

Ignis paused at that, setting down his glass. “Really,” he said. “What of?”

Gladio shrugged. “Nothing much in particular. It wasn’t really a picture - just a small bracelet thing on this left wrist that seemed to be made of barbed wire? And a small starburst right above it.”

“Was it permanent? Because Noctis got one of those temporary tattoos - it’s been slowly wearing off for a few days now.” Ignis said.

Gladio took another bite of his sandwich. “Looked real,” he said after swallowing. “I doubt they sell fake tattoos that detailed. What’d the Princess get one of?”

“Sylleblossoms. I suspect that the tattoo was originally intended for young girls, but he’s always been fond of the flower.” Ignis replied, picking up his cup once more.

Gladio grinned. “Gee, I wonder why. But speaking of flowers, did you hear what happened in the gardens this weekend?”

* * *

Noctis looked carefully around. Prompto  _ had _ said to meet him in front of the apartment, but you could never-

He jumped as he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He turned and had someone pinned to the wall before they could blink.

“Hey!” Prompto said, shocked. “What’re you doing?”

Noctis let go as though he’d been burned. “Sorry! Didn’t… mean to do that. You just startled me.”

Prompto pushed himself off the wall, looking ruefully at the slight friction burn on his arms. “S’ok. I probably should have called out. And hey, at least you can tell your combat teachers that their lessons are sticking!”

“I guess,” Noctis said, putting his hands in his pockets. “Now, mind telling me  _ why _ you wanted to sneak around town after midnight.”

“You make it sound so  _ illicit _ , dude,” Prompto complained.

“Isn’t it?”

“I mean,  _ yeah _ , but…”

“Just spit it out,” Noctis ordered.

“You know how I took some photos of Pyrgopolinices Park a few days ago? Well, I decided that I wanted to see if I could get some shots of it in the dark - a sort of compare and contrast thing, you know? I’m hoping to turning it into my art project for this semester, or at least part of it.” Prompto said, holding up his thankfully-undamaged camera bag.

“I shoulda known,” Noctis sighed, smiling fondly. “Alright, let’s sneak through town by moonlight and get you your photos.”

* * *

By the time Citro Maius’ shift was done at 2:30 am, he was exhausted. Unfortunately the city buses only ran on the half hour, so by the time he’d left the building he would have had to wait for the 3:00 am one. He’d done so on a few occasions, but usually prefered just to walk, no matter how tired he was. It was faster.

As he cut through Pyrgopolinices Park as he always did, Citro’s exhausted mind noticed something strange.

Two men - teenagers? Yeah, definitely teenagers - were wandering around the park, doing weird poses at random - kneeling down, then jumping up on a table, then standing with their arms straight out.

Well, one of them was doing that, anyway. The other teen just trailed behind them.

Citro stopped and stared for a minute, puzzled, before the two happened to move close enough to see the camera in the weird teen’s hand.

_ Oh, ok. _ He thought.  _ Some sort of art thing _ .

He didn’t really  _ get _ art, himself, but his sister was very into it. He’d been dragged to enough museums and art shows to know that  _ art thing _ was probably as much as he wanted to know.

Citro turned and continued home.

* * *

_ holy shit dude, someone saw us - do you think we’re gonna get in trouble. _

_ Shh - just, let’s head back. You got your photos, right? He couldn’t have seen enough to tell who we are - _

_ Yeah, yeah, I’m done. We can go. Hey, uh, can I crash at your place? I really, REALLY don’t want to brave the roads alone… _

_ Sure. _

* * *

"So, what else are we supposed to do before we graduate and face the ‘real world’?” Prompto asked.

“I dunno. What  _ do _ you commoners consider to be important teen rituals.” Noctis asked.

“Oh ha ha.  _ I _ don’t know. I only interact with  _ complete dweebs. _  How should I know what normal people do?”

“Don’t call Gladio a dweeb,” Noctis said, deliberately misunderstanding. “It’ll hurt his feelings.”

“You  _ have _ seen some of the poses he does when I take his picture, right?”

“...point.”

“Anyway, the closest I get to hearing about these mythical ‘regular teens’ are when my old neighbor - dude, seriously, she’s like 90, it’s kinda impressive that she can still live on her own - starts complaining about ‘kids these days’ and their 'disrespect for their elders" and their ‘sex, drugs, and rock and roll’ -“ he broke up abruptly, cheeks turning scarlet.

Noct felt his own heat up. “But you said that she was really  _ really _ old, right?” He said hastily -  _ desperately _ . “Probably completely out of touch with the Youth of Today. Thinks that “swell” and “golly gee” are still in, even.”

“Yeah,” Prompto blurted out, looking deeply relieved. “You’re absolutely right, unreliable source, can’t trust.”

“You know what  _ is _ in with teens?” Noctis asked.

“What?”

“Video games. I think we need to play a lot of those.”

Prompto brightened. “Yes. Definitely. Good plan. What do you wanna play?”

“Assassin’s Creed?”

“Awesome.”

* * *

Paperwork bred. That was the  _ only _ explanation that Regis could come up with.

He would be forever grateful to see peace in his lifetime - to no longer have to sacrifice his people to endless battles, to be able to hand off the kingdom to Noctis once he retired ( _ retired _ , not dead by war or drained by the Wall, he was going to  _ retire _ ) and know that he wouldn’t have to make the same hard choices - well.

He _was_ grateful.

He’d just thought peace would come with _bit_  less paperwork.

Which is why he groaned when he saw Clarus enter the room with  _ yet another _ stack in his hands.

Clarus grinned. “No need to groan, it’s fun stuff. Well, mostly. Counselor Sabinius’ latest budget proposal is mixed in there somewhere.”

Regis grimaced. Ah, the annual budget. Always a calm and stress-free time to be in government.

“No, most of them are about Noctis. I’ve been sitting on them for a few weeks so that you could get the  _ whole _ picture.” Clarus said.

Despite his friend’s teasing tone, Regis felt his heart seize for a moment. “Noctis? Is something wrong?”

Catching sight of Regis’ alarmed face, Clarus winced, regret coloring his features. “No, no, nothing like that. He’s just been doing some funny things lately, thought you could use the laugh.”

Regis felt his heart slowly calm down, and relaxed with a sigh. “Well in  _ that _ case,” he said, making grabby hands at the paperwork. Clarus laughed and handed them over.

The first report was about how Noctis had… painted one of the walls of his room in the Citadel? Bemused, Regis looked at the accompanying photos. The wall right next to his bed was now adorned with the logos and symbols from his favorite video games and movies, along with some doodles of the royal crest and a creature that looked like the Carbuncle statue that he’d given Noctis. (The real statue sat right below the artistic representation, clearly having been used as a model, given the small amount of paint dripped on it.)

They were all surprisingly good.

“Noctis painted this?” he asked, turning to Clarus.

He shrugged. “We think so. His friend Prompto was seen carrying paint through the Citadel, so clearly he had help, but we’re not sure who did what.”

“Either way, it’s impressive. I’ll have to see if either of them want lessons,” Regis said, turning to the next photo.

The next was about Noctis’ job at the sushi restaurant under the name “Noct Gar”. That was old news - Clarus must have been gathering this for quite awhile. Although he did need to speak to Noctis about code names…

The next was some unofficial emails from a rather… irate Ignis. Apparently his entire supply of Ebony had vanished, only to mysterious appear again under Jared’s bed in the Amicita manor.

He also found a stash of Cup Noodles under his bathroom sink.

Coincidentally, the next paper was a print out of texts from Gladio, asking how much trouble he’d be in if he murdered the Crown Prince.

Regis laughed. “I’m surprised he’s still alive. Ignis without caffeine is one thing, but touching your son’s noodles is something else  _ entirely _ .”

Clarus chuckled. “Indeed. But keep looking, you’re far from done.”

He really was far from done. There were more reports - minor pranks; some “undercover” reports of a man named “Nox” (really, a talk about pseudonyms was coming up, Regis  _ swears _ ) helping out with everything from frog collecting to buying 100 moogle plushies for a fundraiser; questionable fashion choices (were those  _ cat ears _ ? And how’d he convince all of his friends to dress up as characters from that one assassin’s game? And-)

“Is that a  _ cup noodle hat _ ?” he asked, squinting at the picture.

Clarus was still  _ entirely _ too amused. “Yes. Three guesses as to who he got that from, and the first two don’t count.”

“Oh, I’m not surprised he  _ owns _ it. I’m surprised he  _ wore  _ it.”

“A bet?”

“Maybe.”

By the time he was done going through the files (carefully extracting the dreaded budget report to go over at a later date) he was both highly entertained, and a little concerned. Also he really needed to get out of the office more if he’d somehow managed to miss  _ all _ of that. They were in peacetime now - a few hours delay wouldn’t get anyone killed.

Clarus stood up and walked over to look over his shoulder. “Been busy, hasn’t he?”

“Yes,” Regis sighed. “And I somehow missed it.”

Clarus clasped his back. “I think he was trying to keep it on the low-down, if that helps. Our surveillance team is just that good.”

“I suppose,” Regis admitted, picking up a picture of Noctis with his arms full of cactuar statues.

“I think he’s just relieved about everything - he’s not going to watch you die in a few years, and he’s not inheriting a war. In that light, I think going out at all hours to help his friend snap photos of Insomnia’s monuments for a magazine is a small price to pay.”

“Or entering every single fishing tournament within the city limits,” Regis said, picking up a picture of Noctis with a fish so huge that his friends all had to help him carry it. "Not that there are many of those."

“Just be glad that  _ we _ have the pictures and not the media.”

Regis rolled his eyes. “You know that if ROWAC got ahold of some of these, they’d spin it so hard that Noctis would be the most dangerous, depraved criminal to ever roam the streets. Breaking and entering, theft, vandalism, wild sex parties that he cosplayed for, and going to drug-fueled raves under aliases. To think they call themselves a  _ news _ organization.”

Clarus laughed for a good five minutes. But then, he slowly tapered off and paused. Looking at the files again, he said slowly. “They… might not be entirely wrong? Or would be wrong? Regis, I think that this might be Noctis’ teenage rebellion.”

Regis blinked at him. “What? I was  _ joking _ …”

“Yes, but you could still be right. He  _ did _ say he was planning on ‘enjoying his last year of freedom’, correct?”

“I had honestly thought that that meant “play as many video games as possible,”” Regis said, though now he was looking thoughtful. Now that he mentioned it, didn’t Noctis show him some sort of temporary tattoo at some point? It had clearly been wearing off at the edges, but Noctis had seemed so proud… “But you really think?”

Clarus shrugged. “Maybe. It was just a thought.” He gestured to the photo of Noctis feeding homemade cat food to a stray. “Most of this seems  _ way _ too harmless to be any sort of rebellion, but with all the rules he’s lived with-”

“If this is his teenage rebellion, then he’s doing it wrong.” Regis said, flipping back through the reports once more.

“What, you  _ want _ him to go to, what was it, “wild cosplay sex parties” and “drug-fueled raves”?”

“ _ No _ , that’s not what I  _ said _ , it’s just that  _ if _ he’s rebelling, our sitting here questioning if said rebellion  _ exists _ indicates that he’s not doing the rebelling correctly - oh stop smirking, Clarus, you know what I mean,” Regis said, frowning at his old friend.

“I do, just - at least he’s having fun. And if  _ we _ can’t decide if he’s going through his rebellious teen phase or not, then the tabloids won’t either. So there’s that.”

“There’s that.” Regis echoed. “And if we’re right, it’ll be a story to tell the grandkids at least. ...or even if we’re wrong, to be honest. One of these say that he helped some sort of  _ dimension traveling _ human-cat hybrid set up a shop downtown - clearly something weird going on there -”

“Oh, you mean like the time you-”

“We agreed to  _ never speak of that again _ .”

“ _ You _ agreed, you mean-”

* * *

Noctis woke to find that they had fallen asleep on the couch. Their controllers had both tumbled to the floor at some point during the night and while one of them had clearly had the foresight to pause the game, it had still be running all night and giving them an inaccurate play time.

Noctis grumbled at the thought before stretching to remove the stiffness from his limbs. The movement was enough to wake Prompto, who mumbled incoherently for a moment before twisting to look at him.

“What timissit?” He yawned.

Noctis fumbled for his phone, which had slid between the couch cushions. He squinted at the screen. “About 9:30?” He said uncertainly.

“Oh, ok,” Prompto breathed, eyes sliding shut again. “Good.”

And as he sat there, drifting in the strange state between wakefulness and sleep, it occurred to Noctis that he was happy.

Even if school  _ did _ end in a few weeks, leaving them to the mercy of the “real world”.

Even if he  _ did _ have to learn about an entire new set of customs from his etiquette teacher for the upcoming trip to Gralea.

Even if he  _ did _ suspect that he and Prompto had rather screwed up their whole “teenage rebellion” plan.

Because right now? Everything was alright. For the first time in years, his future was looking bright.

...even if his dad could never find out about  _ any of this. _


End file.
